


Clothes Make the Man

by Haepherion



Category: Captain America, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky likes Steve in tight jeans, Clothing Kink, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, Steve feels sort of harrassed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haepherion/pseuds/Haepherion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Whatever, I ain’t complaining about you ripping my clothes off; I liked it. I AM complaining about your poor taste in clothes. I mean, c’mon, these Dockers look like they were made in the 50’s! Do you even have jeans?"</p><p>Written for <a href="http://stevebucky-fest.dreamwidth.org/307.html?thread=410419#cmt410419">this prompt</a> at SteveBucky fest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes Make the Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt:  
> Steve has no dress sense. He usually looks fine, because he goes for boring, but he only actually looks good when Bucky's in town, because Bucky basically dresses him in the morning. To the point that everyone at SHIELD knows Bucky's movements because of this (up to you whether Bucky knows it's a tell and doesn't care, or genuinely hasn't noticed).

            “Christ Steve, are white shirts and khaki pants the only thing you own?”  Bucky grumbled, rummaging through Steve’s dresser. Seeing as how Steve had unceremoniously (and quite literally) torn Bucky’s clothes off last night, Bucky needed some temporary clothes. After all, he couldn’t just waltz out onto the streets of New York buck-naked, though to be honest, it wouldn’t have been the strangest thing Bucky had seen in New York.

 

            “I don’t only own white shirts,” Steve said petulantly from the bed, poking his head out from under the blankets. “There are some other shirts. And hey! Put my stuff back nicely, I just organized it!”

 

            “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry I forgot about the occasional pale plaid shirt,” Bucky muttered, flinging a dozen white shirts onto the ground in an effort to find something else. “Steve, you’re already pale as hell. This,” Bucky held up a light green and white plaid shirt, “just makes you look….look…”

 

            “What?” Steve demanded, feigning a hurt expression.

 

            “I was gonna say bad, but it’s hard for you to look bad in anything,” Bucky muttered, tossing the plaid shirt back in the drawer.

 

            “Yeah, well I haven’t exactly had time to go on a shopping run, in case you haven’t noticed. Kind of busy with more important things that don’t concern my wardrobe,” Steve replied sarcastically, settling back against the pillows. “And sorry about ripping your uh, pants last night, since you seem to be so concerned about your clothes,” Steve said, blushing a little. “And sorry about your shirt…Maybe wear something with less buttons next time?”

 

            “Yeah, like I knew you were gonna jump me the second I got through the door,” Bucky rolled his eyes, grinning. “Whatever, I ain’t complaining about you ripping my clothes off; I liked it. I AM complaining about your poor taste in clothes. I mean, c’mon, these Dockers look like they were made in the 50’s! Do you even have jeans? Please tell me you’ve got jeans.”

 

            “Why would I need?...”

 

            “Steve, everyone wear’s jeans now, not just poor people. Haven’t you noticed?”

 

            Steve blinked. “I guess not. I don’t care about how clothes look.” Steve shrugged. “As long as they look nice and neat and the fabric won’t tear easily, it’s fine with me.”

 

            “Yeah, yeah, practically. I get what you’re saying, Stevie, we grew up hard. But you’ve got enough now to wear things that look good and are also really practical. And that aren’t expensive too. SHIELD gives you money anyway, what’s the worry?” Bucky pulled out a smaller pair of dark khaki pants, holding it up against his waist. “Eh, close enough.” He slipped them on, laughing. “This is high-waisted! I feel like someone’s grandfather in these.”

 

            “Are you done making fun of-“ Steve mouth went dry on the last word, staring as Bucky turned to face him. Wearing nothing but Steve’s pants, and really, it shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

 

            “Uh, Bucky…”

 

            “Again? Jeez, at least let me take the pants off first this time.”

 

***

 

            Steve stared at himself in the mirror; he felt a little ridiculous dressed in the light grey sweater and fitted dark jeans that Bucky had picked out an hour earlier. It didn’t feel very formal to be walking around in something that looked like a running sweater. Bucky had insisted he looked good enough to eat, though Steve wasn’t too sure about that.

 

            “The dames will be all over you,” Bucky promised, handing him a black leather belt. Steve gave him a withering look as he slipped it through the loops. “Bucky, I’m not even-“

 

            “Shhh…doesn’t matter. Give everyone something to look at, right? And just look at yourself! If I hadn’t just dropped good money on those clothes, I would be ripping them off you right now.”

 

            “Bucky!”

 

            “Alright, alright. Rain check though, right?” Bucky murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “This is going to be the longest month of my life.”

 

            Steve hugged him closer, planting a kiss against Bucky’s cheek. “You’re doing the world a service, Buck. Just think about it that way.”

 

            “Yeah, yeah. The world has screwed me over too many times to deserve any sort of saving from me,” Bucky snorted, cuddling in closer. “Thirty whole days. And in a fucking cold country, no less. Why are they always sending me off to the places that are frozen over? Is it too hard to send me to a beach or something?”

 

            Steve sighed, feeling the now-familiar ache of missing Bucky already settling in. “You’ll be alright, Buck. I’ll see you soon,” Steve promised, tipping Bucky’s chin up with a finger.

 

            Bucky kissed him slowly, hands lightly running up and down Steve’s sides as they kissed lazily. Steve let himself drown in it; no matter how many times Bucky had come back from a mission successfully, the ever-present likelihood of something going terribly wrong always lay heavy in Steve’s thoughts.

 

            “’ll miss you,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips, and his answering kiss was enough.

 

***

            Steve walked into SHIELD later in the day to go pick up some paperwork that Maria wanted him to finish. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for the busywork or annoyed; as much SHIELD did things “off the book”, they certainly did keep a lot of paperwork. There wasn’t even anywhere to store all of it—probably some poor office person had to type it all into a computer.

 

            Steve entered the numbers to get to the central offices of SHIELD, and suddenly froze, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There was someone watching him. Steve tensed, ready to turn around and fight, when—

 

            “Are you lost?”

 

            Steve looked over his shoulder, staring down at the short girl standing behind him in a SHIELD uniform. The huge smile on her face slowly fell when she recognized Steve’s face, eyes going wide. Steve stared at her, bemused.

 

            “Oh my God, Captain Rogers, I am so, so sorry, I didn’t realize…you look different today, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, and I mean, different as in nice. I mean you always look nice, very decent, uh,” the girl laughed nervously. “Sorry, I just, I have some things I need to do,” she babbled before practically sprinting down the corridor. Steve looked down at the sweater and jeans he still had on and mentally cursed Bucky.

 

            The same thing happened throughout the day; women and men alike started to ask if he was a new recruit before seeing his face, and having varying expression of surprise, embarrassment, and…hunger. There was really no other way to describe their appraising looks, and honestly all of the attention was making Steve more than a little uncomfortable.

 

            When he finally managed to find Maria’s office, it was empty. _Of course it would be empty,_ Steve thought. He turned on his heel and collided almost head on with Natasha, who gave him a very judgemental once-over.

 

            “You look different,” she observed, and it was all Steve could do not to throw his hands up in exasperation.

 

            “Why is everyone staring at me today? Not only staring, but _leering_.” Steve stared down at himself. “Knew it was a terrible idea,” he muttered, pulling at the bottom of the sweater.

 

            “Ah,” Natasha nodded in comprehension, smirking. “Did your boyfriend play dress up with you this morning before he left?”

 

            “Turned me into his personal Barbie,” Steve responded dryly. “And ever since I walked into SHIELD, people having been giving me looks. Like, like I’m something edible or something.”

 

            Natasha shrugged. “They always do, it’s just worse now that you’re,” she waved a hand at his sweater-clad form, “not looking like you walked directly out of a 40’s film, and wearing their grandparents’ clothes.”

 

            “It’s just clothes!” Steve huffed, sticking his hands in the pocket of the hoodie. “If you see Maria at all today, just tell her that I tried to come pick up some files.”

 

***

            And it was the same for the next couple of months. Every time Bucky was back, he would buy Steve new clothes and make him wear them. Cardigans with jeans, sweater vests with slim trousers, sports jackets with pressed black pants, and on one notable occasion, a bowtie and suit combination. Steve didn’t very much care for it, but whatever made Bucky happy was worth it. And seeing the expression on his face whenever Steve was dressed up was definitely worth it. Whenever Bucky was gone for missions, Steve would gladly revert back to his regular high-waisted-khaki-and-old-dress-shirt combination.

 

            The result was always the same whenever Steve would visit SHIELD; if he was dressed in something other than his regular clothes, Steve would feel like a freak; everyone in the office would staring at him. Actually, it felt like practically everyone on the entire carrier would somehow find an excuse to visit the offices, saying hi to him, complementing him, and flirting with him. It was ridiculous, to say the least.

 

            One day, after one of the newer interns had tried to ask him on a date, Steve finally broke.

 

            “Did Bucky put you guys up to this?” He demanded, glaring back at the intern, who suddenly looked a lot more nervous than he did a few seconds ago trying to ask him on a date.

 

            Steve shook his head, grumbling a “Nevermind” before making his way towards Maria’s office. She gave him an amused smile when he flopped into the seat in front of her desk.

 

            “Long day?” she said, handing him a stack of papers.

 

            “No, just,” Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hand, “some of your office interns are very…flirtatious,” Steve said, thinking that perhaps the better word was “solicitous.”

 

            Maria snorted. “Yeah. Walking in dressed as you are.”

 

            Steve stared down at the outfit he was wearing. Bucky had dressed him that morning again, and had picked out a pair of white pants, v-neck dark tshirt, and a navy sports jacket.

 

            “Is this not what people wear normally?” Steve asked hesitantly, wondering if Bucky had been making a fool out of him this entire time.

 

            “Generally, yes. But also, no.”

 

            Steve looked at her.

 

            “There’s a difference between a man wearing white pants and a shirt and a sports jacket, and Captain America wearing white pants and a shirt and a sports jacket.”

 

            Steve felt his frustration rising. “And what would that difference be?”

 

            “You’re extremely well-muscled and handsome,” Maria said simply, handing him a second stack. “You’re dismissed. Have a nice day.”

 

            Steve walked out of the office, and tried not to feel flustered at the dozen or more people oogling at his back.

 

***

 

            The next time Bucky was in town, Steve decided enough was enough.

 

            “Bucky,” Steve said, tracing patterns on Bucky’s abs with a finger, “you know that whenever you dress me, people stare.”

 

            “Yeah, no kidding. You think people don’t stare all the time anyway?” Bucky chuckled flicking Steve’s finger. “You’re beautiful, Stevie.” Bucky said, flipping onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow.

 

            “It’s a little strange, they look at me like I’m…like I’m a delicious steak, to be honest,” Steve said, and blushed when Bucky guffawed with laughter.

 

            “You mean like you’re good enough to eat? Told you so,” Bucky hooted, rolling so that he was on top of Steve. “And they’re right. You’re delicious,” he smirked, nuzzling against Steve’s jaw. Steve rolled his eyes. “Gee, great to know I’m as tasty as some steak.”

 

            “A very good piece of steak. Better than steak,” Bucky said, mouthing down Steve’s neck, “more delicious than the most delicious piece of steak…” Bucky licked down Steve’s chest, swirling his tongue around his left nipple and Steve groaned, toes curling in anticipation.

 

            “Bucky?” Steve said breathlessly, resting a hand on top of his shoulder.

 

            “Mmph?” Bucky hummed, sucking on Steve’s nipple; the rest of Steve’s train of thought promptly derailed.

 

            “Clothes…clothes,” Steve moaned as Bucky dipped lower, and lower, and--

           

            “No…no more dress up,” Steve gasped breathlessly as Bucky teased the head of Steve’s dick, before wrapping his lips around it fully.

 

            “Not allowed…you’re not allowed to dress me anymore,” Steve let out in a rush of air before he could forget, moaning as Bucky sucked hard, pushing himself down Steve’s cock until it nudged against the back of his throat.

 

            Bucky abruptly pulled off and grinned, licking his lips when Steve whined at the loss. “Alright, fine. I’ll only dress you up when we’re alone. I like having you all to myself better anyway.”

 

            And Steve was perfectly fine with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still a fairly new writer to this pairing, so I would love any advice that anyone has on how I'm doing with their characterizations. I'm also just getting back into the swing of writing at all, so forgive me for being rusty. Un-betaed, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title inspiration taken from back in my high school english days...and my insane literature teacher shouting "CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN", in relation to the Taming of the Shrew.


End file.
